Bethyl – Daryl is her first!
by Uta Burke
Summary: On her 18th birthday, Beth asks Daryl to do it with her before she dies. This is how we imagine Daryl treating a virgin...


After a night of wandering through woods and across open fields, Daryl and Beth took shelter in the funeral home behind the cemetery. They made sure it was free of Walkers before stepping inside and touring the spacious, orderly place, ending up in the kitchen where they foraged for food. They found a cabinet filled with canned goods, and Daryl reached for a jar of peanut butter. He pulled out a wad of goo which he licked in greedy haste before sticking his tongue directly into the jar, then smacked his lips. A short time ago, Beth would have been disgusted by his behavior, but the world around her and everything in it had changed and all she said was, "Gross." Daryl had saved her life on more than one occasion and she looked at him as her protector who could do no wrong. Still, she wished he would take a shower occasionally, especially now when they were inside a proper home which seemed to have only been recently abandoned. Maybe they still had running water. Beth turned on the faucet and it sputtered to life, gargling up brown liquid which soon flowed freely and clear.

"Hey, look, we've got water. Maybe you could shower while we're here. Or at least wash up."

Daryl shot her an offended look. "Why? I smell or somethin'?"

Beth blushed.

"That be the first time a woman tole me what to do. I don't believe in showers. I hop in the crik ev'ry once in a while. That ain't good enough for ya?"

"It was just a thought. Since we're in a house, we could do our laundry and shower. I know I will, since, you know, it's a special day today."

"What d'ya mean?"

She grinned before a shadow fell over her face. "It's my eighteenth's birthday. Last year my family and I planned to do something special. It's a big deal, you know."

"It's your birthday? Why didn't you say somethin'? Happy birthday, then." Daryl scratched his neck. He seemed suddenly shy. "Yeah, last year things were a lot different." When he saw her sad face, he added, "Well, guess we'll have to make the best of it."

Beth shrugged and looked around. "How?"

"Why don't you hop in the shower? Gives me time to think of somethin'."

Daryl found cake mix and oil in one of the cabinets, as well as a jar of pigs' feet which he placed on the table for dessert. Maybe the stove still worked. He turned one of the dials and a flame clicked to life.

He poured the mix into a bowl, added extra oil and water, and mashed it into a lumpy, runny batter which he poured in one of the round baking pans he found in the oven. It overflowed, but he wouldn't lose sleep over it. Candles from the room with the open casket, as well as a bouquet of dried funeral flowers, completed the setting.

The cake was stuck in the pan so they would have to eat it out of that. There were matches in one of the drawers and he lit the candles just as Beth came downstairs.

She had changed into a clean outfit and when she saw the cake, she squealed.

"Oh, Daryl, you did all this?"

He blushed and waved his hand bashfully. "It's nothing." He cleared his throat. "Not sure how the cake came out, but anyway, happy birthday, young lady."

They sat at the kitchen table breaking pieces of flat, hard, eggless birthday cake out of the pan. Daryl even sang Happy Birthday in a hoarse voice. It touched Beth's heart. She was glowing from the shower and smelled like roses from whatever body wash she found up there. Daryl kept stealing glances and after a while he just stared at her openly.

"What are you staring at?" Beth asked, giggling.

He shrugged and lowered his eyes. "Um, you know."

"No. What?"

He gestured at his head. "Just, your hair and smile. You look like an angel." He blushed deeply.

"Well, I'm a woman now. Cheers," Beth said and held up her soda bottle. "This turned out to be a nice birthday after all. Thank you, Daryl."

"Best one I ever saw."

"Really? How did you use to celebrate when you grew up?" She looked at him expectantly.

"I don't wanna talk about it," he said harshly.

"Oh, come on, why not? What's the earliest you remember?"

"That's easy. None."

"You never had a birthday party?"

"Nope. Nobody ever even acknowledged it. 'twas just a regular crappy day in hell like any other. And I really don't wanna talk about it." When he saw the hurt look on her face he said in a slightly nicer tone, "What did you do on your last birthday? You said the whole family did somethin'?"

"Yeah, we had a picnic under the trees where you folks camped for a few weeks, and we sang and had music and played some games. My friends from school were over." Beth's eyes shone when she thought about it, then she remembered who sat in front of her. "It was nice, but, you know, nobody's family is perfect. We had our issues."

Daryl guffawed. "Yeah, right. You don't have to patronize me, I know the deal. You couldn't have had a more Rockwell-like family if you tried. Must be nice. You know what I did for my seventeenth birthday?" He leaned into her face. "Merle took me to a dive and paid for a hooker. Been doing that since I was fifteen. Said he was getting worried I turn into a monk." Daryl suddenly looked menacing.

Beth laughed. "A monk? I can't imagine that. You look so, so, I don't know. Adventurous. Like a warrior who pillages cities and loots towns and takes their women." She stopped abruptly. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I actually never noticed you being with anyone. How come?"

Daryl had turned beet red by now. "None of your business. That's private stuff. You don't know what I'm doing," he said gruffly." He got up so abruptly his chair tipped over and he left the room. "I need to take a piss."

Beth thought he would use the bathroom near the entrance and was surprised to hear him stomping up the stairs. A minute later she heard the toilet flush and expected him to come back into the kitchen, but when he didn't, she stepped out into the hallway to look for him. She heard the sound of water running. Was Daryl in the shower!? Beth clasped a hand over her mouth and gasped. She couldn't imagine him clean instead of grimy, and smelling like the fancy body wash she found on the shelf, something Kiehl's Musk Blend. She left it on the sink for him to find should he happen to change his mind about showers. He would look so much different, or maybe just a little cleaner if he didn't bother using soap and shampoo. Anyway, it was a start.

She began cleaning up and putting things away when she came upon a hidden cabinet in the corner. It was filled with liquor bottles. Startled, Beth slammed the door. She stared at it for a long time and kept going back to it. Her hand reached slowly toward the knob and she opened it again, very carefully as if she expected a spider jumping out at her. Suddenly she held two bottles in her hands and got up. She placed them on the counter, then added the rest, until the surface looked like a bar counter.

Daryl stepped into the kitchen, dressed in someone's suit, and he smelled musky and clean and delicious. Still towel-drying his hair, he said, "I threw my stuff in the laundry…" when he saw the bottles on the counter. He stopped in his tracks, mouth agape. "Where did you get these from?"

"Over there, in that cabinet," Beth said, pointing behind her. Suddenly brave, she added, "Let's do this right. I'm eighteen after all. What would you recommend we start with? I never had alcohol in my life. My dad didn't allow it." When she saw Daryl's sarcastic look, she quickly added, "He is a recovering alcoholic. We aren't totally perfect, you know."

"You don't have to defend yourself all the time. I saw enough to come to my own conclusions. Be glad you have a family who gives a shit."

Beth didn't want him to go on the defense again so she grabbed a random bottle. "That one says peach schnapps. I love peaches. Maybe I should start with that." Before Daryl had a chance to stop her, she had the bottle uncapped and took a long swig. She gagged and spit out what she could. Daryl was next to her in a flash, ripping the bottle out of her hand.

"What are you doing? That's not how you have your first drink!

Beth hung over the sink, spitting and gasping for air. "Oh my gosh, that stuff is disgusting! Is it too old? It burns like crazy!"

Daryl, stunned at so much ignorance, shook his head and surveyed the arrangement on the counter. "What else have ya got? Here," he said, holding up a bottle of Jack Daniels. "Make it worth it. The hangover, I mean." He found two glasses and poured in a generous amount, handing one to Beth. "Cheers. Careful, it still burns going down."

They clinked glasses and Beth watched Daryl down his in one gulp, then bravely followed suit. She didn't spit it back out this time but contorted her face so much Daryl busted out laughing.

They each had another glass and things started getting fuzzy for Beth. She steadied herself by holding on to the counter and trying to focus on Daryl's face when it hit her how different he looked. He was clean-shaven, soaped, shampooed and dressed in a suit. "Wow, Mr. Dixon, you sure look gorgeous." She was truly impressed. "Why, I thank you for cleaning yourself up for my party, I 'preciate it." She held out an arm to him. "Want to join me in the ballroom for a little music?"

Daryl grunted and rolled his eyes, but took her arm and led her to the room with the piano and the open casket. Beth sat down and began playing a few tunes, singing a sweet little song Daryl didn't recognize, and he sat in the coffin watching the scene.

She stopped playing but didn't get up. He sensed she waited for him to do or say something. Daryl approached slowly and pulled her to her feet. "May I have this dance?" he asked gallantly.

Beth giggled. "Who else would you have it with? Sure you can."

They clumsily arranged their arms until their bodies fit and pretended to sway to music. She started humming a song so it wouldn't be too weird to dance in silence. When she was done, Daryl hummed the opening lines to another song.

Surprised, Beth looked up at him. "I never imagined you knew "Moon River." Are you secretly romantic, Mr. Dixon?"

He shrank away from her almost instinctively. "No. My old lady's favorite movie was "Breakfast at Tiffany's" and she listened to it all the time. Merle and I used to call it "Moonshine River." He laughed at the memory before quickly hardening his face.

Beth placed her head on Daryl's shoulder. A short while later she felt his chin touching the top of her head and she thought how good and right it felt. Daryl was an offish man, but she could tell there was a good heart beating underneath that impenetrable facade of his. Braved by alcohol, she said, "Do you find me attractive?"

Time seemed to have stood still and it took Daryl forever to answe. His steps became jerky and he eventually stopped moving altogether.

"Hm," he grunted.

Beth grew impatient. "Okay, let me ask you a different question. "Do you find me repulsive?"

Grunt. "No, of course not. I…"

"Then why don't you make a pass at me?"

Daryl was really thrown off guard now. "Um."

"What's wrong?"

"Nuthin'." He stood still, holding his breath. He'd had his share of aggressive women, and in truth, it was the only way he knew how to act around them. But this was different. He wasn't even sure what he was feeling. Up to now he had looked upon Beth like a sister, annoying and in need of protection as he thought little sisters were supposed to be, but now he felt a growing need to hold her in his arms and hug her to his chest, to lose himself in the moment and feel the sweetness he always imagined women possessed but never encountered. Beth looked like she could be such a woman. Still…

"Daryl, I want to do it. I want to know what it's like before I die."

He froze again. Suddenly Beth ran out of the room, retching. He followed her into the bathroom where he found her hanging over the toilet bowl being sick. This was more like it; this he could deal with. He grabbed a towel and knelt behind her, holding her by the forehead, wiping her perspiring brow and mouth whenever she had a break. When she was finished, she sank backward into his arms and he held her tenderly.

"Let's get something into your stomach." He helped her to her feet and led her back to the kitchen where he deposited her by the counter so she could hold on. "It's not "Tiffany's," but this will settle your stomach," he said and placed a box of crackers before her, encouraging her to eat. She held her head in her hands and looked at him from under her lashes. "Sorry for making you feel uncomfortable before. I don't know what came over me."

"Let's consider it a compliment," he finally said. He looked at her, but this time something was different. He didn't freeze, didn't blush. This time he looked at her like a man desiring a woman. The moment felt so tender, so right, that even the stoic hunter couldn't resist. He leaned in to kiss her.

The kiss grew from lips touching to tongues exploring, to his hand caressing her cheek and pushing her hair back, coming to rest on her neck and pulling her close. Beth was lost in the moment, overpowered by his musky scent and the delicate strength of his embrace. She opened her eyes and answered his questioning look with a nod. Daryl picked her up and carried her out of the room, up the stairs and into the master bedroom, where he deposited her on the bed. She undressed herself as he waited and watched. Down to her underwear now, she started undressing him, pulling off his suit jacket, unbuttoned his dress shirt and slipped it off his shoulders until it fell to the floor. He hesitantly took off his pants, still unsure if he should be her first, afraid of taking advantage, but the impatient expression on her face encouraged him to continue. He slipped under the covers next to her, fully exposed. With a finger, he pushed down one of her bra straps. Beth unhooked it and pulled it off. She blushed, trying to avoid looking at his manhood which poked at her thigh. Daryl had no control over his erection at this point and was forced to deal with the situation as it unfolded. Both were embarrassed when they gazed at each other. He pulled her into an embrace, her head resting under his chin. He could feel her heart beat through her chest. Daryl let Beth take the lead, to avoid making her do anything she wasn't ready for.

She was touched when she realized what he was doing. Shyly, she traced his chest and brushed over a hardened nipple, then looked up to gauge his reaction. Eyes hooded, Daryl's mouth stood slightly open and his breathing told her he enjoyed the touch, but she wasn't sure where she should go from there. "Daryl…" He understood and outlined her face with a finger, then encouragingly tipped up her chin. "Just do what feels natural. You don't have to do anything you don't want." When he saw the uncertain look on her face, he asked, "Want me to show you?"

Beth nodded and stretched out on her back. She quickly stripped off her panties, then whispered, "I trust you. Just be real slow, please."

Daryl bent down for a kiss, lingering, still holding back. He had trained himself to control his urges, out of necessity. He rather denied himself the happiness of feeling anything related to love, to avoid being vulnerable. It had always ended in pain.

Beth pulled him on top of her. He felt her spreading her legs underneath, a move which positioned his penis right at her center. Probing, then pushing ever so slightly until she shrank away, apologizing. He gave her time, then neared her entrance again. She closed her eyes and nodded. Daryl inched into her as slowly as he could until he felt the barrier of her hymen folds. He halted. Beth took a deep breath and braced herself for the discomfort she heard about and now felt shooting through her body. She gasped, surprised at the intensity of the pain. Daryl pulled out immediately, waited until she nodded again, then entered as she slightly arched her hips to meet him, still in pain, but determined to get past it. He cradled her head in his hands as he moved inside her, as gently as possible, adjusting his moves to hers. He closed his eyes as he felt himself approaching his peak, knowing she most likely wouldn't climax during her first time. Only then did he let go.

He was very quiet, still paying attention to her comfort, and she only knew by the quickening of his breathing and movements that he was getting close. When he came, Daryl threw back his head, moaning, finally giving in to his pleasure without waiting for hers.

Beth watched his ecstasy with awe. To think that her body was able to give such pleasure to the most taciturn person she ever met, and who at this very moment was all hers. She wanted it to go on forever.

Afterward, he kissed her on the brow and eased himself out and off of her.

They lay next to each other, reflecting, Daryl still reeling from how quickly things progressed. An hour ago, holding her naked in his arms had been unimaginable. He felt as if he betrayed Hershel, a man for whom he had more respect than anyone else, except maybe Rick. But it was what it was; there was no going back.

The experience of losing her virginity was still catching up with Beth. She seemed transfixed. He thought she even looked content, not because she was satisfied, but because of the act itself; she was no longer untouched. Daryl wrapped his arm around her and said, "I won't ask how it was for you, just know - it will get better. The first time sucks, but that's behind you now." He turned and solemnly looked at her. "Do you regret it?"

She vigorously shook her head. "No. I'm glad we did. Was I… good?"

Daryl, so scared of giving of himself because it always ended in disappointment, yet so desperate to receive appreciation and love, felt tears coming to his eyes by her precious innocence which touched him deeply. "Better than anyone I know."

She looked up, surprised.

"I mean it. It was real. You gave me more than you will ever know."

"But how can that be? Surely you have been with lots of women, all more experienced than I."

"That's not what I meant. It's hard to explain. Because of you, I haven't completely given up on humanity. How's that?"

He felt her shrug. "There are still good people out there, Daryl. I believe it."

He sighed. "Yeah. You would. You have reason to."

Beth kind of understood what he meant but couldn't totally relate because she had always been cherished. Daryl longed for what had been given freely to her all her life, love and validation, both unfamiliar to him. As a result, he was drawn to nature and animals, whom he trusted more than people.

"God loves us all, no matter how much we mess up. Do you believe that?"

Daryl shook his head. "Humans are evil, why would he care about us? I believe in reincarnation. There's too much to learn to get it all done during one lifetime. Way I see it, our souls come back in different bodies so we learn different things and grow. And for that, people should have to go through an animal life at least once."

"You mean, like, coming back as an animal after we die?"

"Yeah, why not? When you look deeply into their eyes, you can see their soul, and the truth and honesty in it. People should have to recycle through an animal to purify their spirit before they get another shot at becoming a decent human being the next time around.

"It's an interesting theory. You can still fit God into it, though. He made the animals, too."

Daryl grunted. "I saw too much in my life to believe in a loving, all-forgiving God."

"How do you know we call Him loving and all-forgiving? Have you secretly been to Bible study?" She laughed. "I look at it this way: If there is no God and I lived a good life and was kind to others, then so what? No harm done. But heaven help us if there _is_ a God."

He hugged her to his chest. "Great timing trying to convert me while living in sin."

She giggled. "Every saint has a past, every sinner has a future. Daryl?"

"Hm?"

"Can we do it again? But this time with you acting as if you really desire me?"

He shifted, shocked by her request. "What do you mean? I did desire you!"

"Yeah, but you were holding back. What are you afraid of?"

It took him a long time to answer. "I didn't want to take advantage of you. You're so young and sweet, and you're Hershel's daughter. Maggie's sister…"

"And Ms. Flanery's student. And Holly's babysitter. And a grown, red-blooded woman. And…"

"Okay, okay, got it. You ready for more?"

"Mhm. Show me what you've got."

He busted out laughing. "You're not ready for that, trust me. Not while you're still… hurtin'."

The second time, Daryl took the lead and his hands wandered over Beth's nubile body, lingering where he felt her responding strongly. Beth vibrated under his skilled touch. When he entered her the second time, she was ready and met him with raised hips, matching his moves once he took possession. She didn't climax by the time he came, but felt enraptured by his moaning, loud and uncontrolled this time. And it was she who was responsible for it.

As soon as he pulled out, he rolled to his side and massaged her bud to finish what he started. "Let yourself go, don't hold back. You can add dirty thoughts if you want, it'll move things along. Just relax, nobody is judging."

Beth closed her eyes and let the sensation build in her. He swept her body with kisses and she felt his mouth on her breasts, his breath hot against her skin, his fingers expertly massaging her most sensitive part until she felt herself approaching a height no man had ever taken her. She moaned with pleasure.

"Don't stop, please don't stop."

"I won't," Daryl reassured her, watching spellbound as she writhed under his touch. In her eyes he could see what the mixture of restrained but masterful, heart-felt love-making did to a woman.

She arched her back toward him, pressed herself against his deft fingers, gasping, rising over the top, and exploding under his fingertips. It had never felt like this, not for him, nor for her. She rode the wave of ecstasy to its crest, lingered, and descended haltingly, eyes wide open, a changed woman, and he, a better man.

They fell asleep, blissfully spent and contented by what they had brought out in the other.

During breakfast the next morning, a gang of marauders broke into the house and took Beth…

Months after the kidnapping and living by himself while searching for his friends, brother or Beth, Daryl rejoined Rick's group after an especially gruesome run-in with guys who were worse than any either one had ever encountered. But he had found Rick, and Merle had joined them around the same time. It felt like a family reunion.

The morning after killing the gang's leader and his men, Rick and Daryl leaned against the side of a car, filling each other in on their whereabouts since they got separated.

"What about Beth? Have you seen her?" Rick asked.

"We got out together, then I lost her. I don't know what happened to her since."

"Is she dead?"

"She's just gone." Then he added, "We were together, you know."

Rick looked up. "You mean, _together_ together?"

Daryl nodded. "It came from her. I didn't take advantage or anything."

Rick gave him a steady look. "I believe you. Wouldn't be surprised if a little wildcat was hiding underneath all that innocence." He winked. When he saw Daryl's upset face, he placed a hand on his friend's knee. "I'm sorry, brother. She was a sweet girl."

Merle walked up and sat on his haunches in front of them. "What's a matter?"

With his chin, Rick pointed at Daryl. "He's lost someone special."

Daryl couldn't hold back his tears and they ran freely down his cheeks, in front of Merle who for once didn't insult him about it. "She could still be alive," he whispered. "We don't know what happened to her."

Merle looked from Daryl to Rick and back at Daryl. "Who are you talking about?"

"The young girl from the farm, one of Hershel's daughters. Daryl was with her last."

"You mean Beth?"

They nodded.

Merle blanched and cleared his throat. "Just how special are we talking?"

Daryl looked at him, surprised. "You know, like…" He let his words trail off.

Merle got up and took a step back, scratching his head. "I'll be damned."

"Why? What do you mean?"

"Nuthin'. Give me a day or two, see what I can do."

Daryl tried pressing him for more, but Merle wouldn't say. He walked away, shaking his head.

The next day, as the group sat around the camp fire for dinner, Merle appeared. He wasn't alone. When Daryl realized his brother had arrived, he looked up and his gaze shifted to the person next to him.

It was Beth.

A pregnant Beth.

She yelped and ran into Daryl's outstretched arms. He held her as if he would never let go, laughing and crying, clinging on to her like a drowning victim to a life saver, then held her at arms' length and stared at her belly.

When he looked into her eyes, she nodded.

Slowly the story emerged. Beth had been able to escape shortly after she was taken hostage by the gang who broke into the funeral home, and she eventually found her family. From then on they hid in the woods, afraid of becoming separated again. Merle found Glenn one day, out on a hunt for food, and followed him to their little hut in which he lived with Maggie, Beth and their father. Now they were all here and the reunion was tremendous.

Hershel knew Daryl was the father of his youngest daughter's child, and he seemed okay with it. He gave him a hug and a slap on the shoulder, glad to have him back.

Merle was delighted. Pointing at Beth, he bellowed, "I'm gonna be an aunt or an uncle soon, d'pending on if it's a boy or a girl. Can y'all believe that?"

The group laughed at his joke. "Who would've thought: Our Daryl is a hound dog after all," someone shouted. Knee slapping, handshakes, cowbell.

Daryl blushed deeply and hung his head in embarrassment, his fringe covering his eyes. But if you looked closely, you could see the wide grin spreading from ear to ear.

Rick's group found new dwellings in an abandoned farmhouse not far from a town that still had several warehouses and stores stocked with supplies. Rick and his team declared the town safe for now, but they decided to move into the farmhouse for old times' sake, and bring as many supplies from town as they could before someone could stop them.

Beth's pregnancy progressed normally and she and Daryl could often be seen sitting on the porch, her head in his lap, Glenn playing guitar and the girls singing along. "Uncle" Merle hung out most nights, entertaining them with jokes.

"I've got a good one this time, wait till you hear this beaut. And perfect for the occasion, too," he announced while Daryl rolled his eyes. "Here it goes: This lady was pregnant with twins and right before they were born, she fell into a coma and didn't wake up until it was all over. When she came to and saw that the babies were born, she asked the nurse to bring them to her. Nurse shows up with a boy and a girl, says, 'your brother-in-law named 'em for you, bein' you weren't able to.' 'Oh, no,' cried the woman, 'he's an idiot. What did he name my poor little girl?' Nurse says, 'Denise.' The woman looked relieved and said, 'Oh, thank God, that ain't so bad after all. And what did he name my son?' 'Denephew.'"

Merle erupted in shrill laughter over his own joke, joined by the others. Daryl groaned then laughed out loud, shaking his head. For all appearances, it felt like a normal night in a normal world. Then Beth's water broke.

Daryl immediately panicked and looked at his brother for help, Glenn ran to find Hershel, Maggie guided her sister into the house and bedroom. Hershel had his team assembled quickly and barked orders as he got organized for the birth. Beth stretched out her hand toward Daryl and he rushed to hold it, sitting next to her. The contractions started and Beth was in agony. There was nothing Daryl could do but let her squeeze his hand and wipe her brow. For the first several hours, things progressed as could be expected, then Beth let out a scream that shook everybody to the core, and lost consciousness.

Herschel ordered Glenn and Daryl out, only keeping Maggie and Patricia to assist him. Daryl staggered from the room in shock, walked the hallway up and down, then broke down crying. "Something is wrong," he wailed. "Please, God, help us. I can't lose her again."

Merle and Rick rushed to his side. Daryl berated himself for putting Beth in this situation. "It's all my fault. God is punishing me. I should have never touched her!"

Merle, stunned by his brother's sudden religious turn, knelt in front of him, slapping him on the cheeks. He shouted for Glenn to get a glass of moonshine which he had started producing around back for something to do, and Rick cracked the bedroom door open, trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on. He saw Hershel bent over Beth, Patricia hooking up a drip, and Maggie taking notes on a piece of paper, which he found odd. Suddenly Beth gasped and rose up, delirious, staring at the ceiling before falling back onto the bed. Rick quickly closed the door. Daryl sat on the floor, holding his head in his hands, being comforted by his brother who held a glass to his lips. Daryl threw it back in one swallow, but when Merle refilled it, he refused. A minute later, the door swung open and Maggie asked Daryl to come back inside.

"Oh God, she must be dying. They're calling me to say good-bye!" Daryl sobbed.

Rick and Merle dragged him to his feet and half-carried him into the birthing room just as the baby crowned. Daryl fainted.

When he came to, he heard someone crying. His baby. He couldn't make out the blurry faces around him, but could tell that they did not look upset. Beth and the baby must be okay. Merle helped his brother to his feet and brought him to the bed side, where a beaming Hershel held a screaming bundle out to him.

"It's a boy," he said simply. "Congratulations. Do you have a name for him yet?"

Daryl reached for his son, unable to speak. Then he looked at Beth. She had her eyes closed but displayed a contented smile on her face.

"She's exhausted," Hershel said. "It took a lot out of her. Give her a few minutes."

Beth mumbled something nobody understood. Her voice grew louder, more urgent. "Oleg. The baby. Oleg."

"What is she saying?" Patricia asked concerned.

"Oleg. It's an old Norse god name. I b'lieve it means sacred, or blessing," Merle said.

They stared at him. Merle shrugged. "The past is in the past," was all he said.

Maggie held out the notepad she held in her hand. "Maybe this will help. She was delirious when she was unconscious and kept mumbling something. I wrote it down, just in case it comes in handy."

Glenn read, "Baby boy, shall be called Oleg, holds answer, antivirus, conceived in innocence, love, overcame evil." He blanched when he grasped what he read and stared at the baby. "Does this mean… he… he can heal us? From the virus?" he stammered.

For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Rick's eyes widened and he ran from the room. Outside, he stepped off the porch, into the yard from where he surveyed the farm. Something was different. He looked at his arms; blood pulsed through his veins so intensely he could almost feel it pump. He felt something else. A lightness as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. In the near distance, a Walker looked at him, but instead of approaching, he turned around and walked away, then collapsed. Rick ran after him. He poked him with a stick, and even though he wasn't stabbed through the brain, he didn't move.

"Rick, come look!" Glenn shouted from the roof top. "You have to see this!"

Rick turned and ran back to the house, climbed up on the roof and stared into the distance. Several Walkers, who had been on their way to Rick's group, had stopped and either turned away or had collapsed already, really dead now. Unmoving forever.

Just as the virus had come, it had abated.

Rick turned to Glenn and they stared at each other in disbelieve. "Are you telling me," Rick finally said, "that it took having sex with Daryl Dixon to end the Apocalypse?"

Which is exactly what it was.

Hershel had Oleg's blood tested by a team of hastily assembled scientists in Washington who discovered indeed an antivirus with which they inoculated everybody who found the way to their door. The world slowly returned to normal. Everybody was busy. After all, there was a lot of rebuilding and repopulating needing to be done. Maggie and Glenn had a son. Patricia and Merle acknowledged budding feelings for each other, which had Daryl in stitches. The group settled in the nearby town, with everybody living on the same street, while Hershel stayed in the farmhouse, enjoying his last years. His grandchildren and daughters visited daily.

On Thanksgiving, the Atlanta group and Hershel's family sat around a long farm table under the trees, thanking God for their blessings and Merle's moonshine, of which he already had too much of.

"Yeah," he could be heard saying proudly, holding a toddler in each arm. "Baby brother always had a sweet side. Just look at this idyllic crap. And all because of Daryl. He saved the fuckin' planet, the rat bastard."

The End

Daryl finally having sex ended the Apocalypse and returned the world to normal… Don't rip my head off – it felt too good to imagine such an outcome J Why not go all out crazy and pour our hopes and dreams into how we want The Walking Dead to end? Hope you enjoyed the story, I sure had fun writing it!


End file.
